


Capitalism and Funny Syphilis

by vinniebatman



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Highlander: The Series
Genre: Character Death Fix, Crossover, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-03
Updated: 2013-04-03
Packaged: 2017-12-07 11:21:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/747954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vinniebatman/pseuds/vinniebatman
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p><b>Prompt:</b> A Scooby working at Joe's bar, posted at Twisting the Hellmouth<br/><b>Disclaimer:</b> I so totally own the show. Bow Down! *Doctor's Note: Patient exhibits delusions of grandeur and any claims of ownership are pure fantasy. No harm is meant. Seriously, it's better than her throwing rocks at people.<br/><b>Author's Note:</b> Okay, so I'm not majorly into Highlander, but I do watch it when I can catch an episode. Because of that, this occurs in no specific time period.  I don't know of anywhere else to post this here on lj, but it is posted on TtH<br/></p>
    </blockquote>





	1. In Which Anya Gets a Job

**Author's Note:**

> **Prompt:** A Scooby working at Joe's bar, posted at Twisting the Hellmouth  
>  **Disclaimer:** I so totally own the show. Bow Down! *Doctor's Note: Patient exhibits delusions of grandeur and any claims of ownership are pure fantasy. No harm is meant. Seriously, it's better than her throwing rocks at people.  
>  **Author's Note:** Okay, so I'm not majorly into Highlander, but I do watch it when I can catch an episode. Because of that, this occurs in no specific time period. I don't know of anywhere else to post this here on lj, but it is posted on TtH  
> 

* * * * * * * *  
  
There was no flash of light or portal. Instead, one second there was a small alley, and the next second, there was an alley with two people. Without discussion, the two people walked out of the alley and down the sidewalk in silence.

"I hate you, you know," Anya pouted. Whistler rolled his eyes.

"Look dollface, you got off a hell of a lot luckier than anyone else. Xander needs you, and the Powers know that. But he has a job to do in Africa, and if you're with him, he won't go."

"Fine." Anya shivered, then looked around. Why is it so cold? It's June, right?"

Whistler cleared his throat, the scratched behind his ear.

"It is June, isn't it?"

"Uh, no. The powers figured that if they brought you back right away, there would be a chance that you'd contact Xander before he left for Africa. So they held you in time until now."

"Well when the Hell am I?"

"It's January seventh."

Anya glared at the balance demon. "You bastard! I hate you! Damnit, I knew I died too easy! You made sure I turned my back! You'd just better hope my Xander is in one piece when I go back, or I'll hunt you down!"

Whistler smirked. "Yeah, I know you'll try. But face it; without your powers, I'm pretty much untouchable."

Anya clenched her jaw and stilled. Once Whistler looked away, she lashed out. Throwing out a strong left hook, she grinned as his lip split and he fell on his ass, his hat flying off of his head.

"Ow! Hey, no need to resort to violence," he whimpered. Walking closer, she planted a foot on his chest, the heel of her shoe digging into his chest.

"Listen here you impotent little worm! I'm may not have the connections I used to but I can still-!" Anya paused and looked around as some of the windows lit up. Taking a calming breath, she continued. "I may not have the connections I used to, but just remember, I turned Olaf into a troll before I was a demon."

Whistler nodded and paled. Suddenly, Anya's glower melted into a bright smile. Removing her foot, she leaned down and helped Whistler to his feet.

"So, what do I do now?" Massaging his jaw, the demon glared.

"I'm under orders to get you set up. Xander's going to be a big player and they need him happy. You alive makes him happy. Here." Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out an envelope. "It's got some seed money, driver's liscense, passport, a couple of low-interest credit cards that _you_ pay back and a clean slate with D'Hoffryn. Everything else is up to you." Whistler bent over and retrieved his hat. Straightening, he turned.

"You've gotten a couple of second chances; this is your last one." Anya nodded and watched him go, a strange mix of sadness and satisfaction filling her. Shaking of her sudden bout of melancholy, she walked to the bar across the street. It was still open, but quiet. As she entered, the few occupants looked at her before dismissing her. She marched up to the bar and the man that stood behind it.

"Do you have a newspaper I could look at?" The bearded man studied her.

"What for?"

"I need money, and to get money I need to get a job... or rob a bank." Anya paused, considering, then shook her head. "No, it's not worth all the stress. Although I was able to buy a lot of things."

"Well, not to be rude, but this is a bar." Anya looked into the envelope, discovering a debit card along with $300 dollars.

"I'll take a vodka on the rocks. And the newspaper." The man raised an eyebrow.

"What's your name?"

"Anya Jenkins. And you?"

"Joe Dawson."  
* * * * * *  
The bar got busier the closer it got to midnight. Joe moved behind the bar as quickly as he could, trying to keep up with the haughty demands of the college kids that had invaded.

Joe frowned as he tried to recall which drinks the kid had ordered and not just discussed. "What did you have again?"

The young man smirked.

"He had two Stoli cranberries, one Cosmo, one chocolate Martini, three Heinikens, and a pitcher of Stella," Anya rattled off. Joe grinned.

"Want a job?" Anya grinned back before turning to the college student.

"That will be fifty-two dollars and fifty cents please."  
$ $ $ $ $ $ $ $ $ $

 


	2. In Which the Immortal Four Get Suspicious

$ $ $ $$ $ $$ $ $$ $ $$ $

Three weeks later, Joe sat at the bar, flipping through the paperwork. The door opened and his first instinct was to yell out "We're closed." But his second instinct was that at noon, it had to be one of his friends, not a customer. Looking over his shoulder, he saw Adam saunter in.

"Well, look who decided to grace me with his presence. How are you?" Adam quickly shook Joe's hand, then shed his overcoat and walked behind the bar.

"I'm doing quite well, just got into town two days ago and Duncan wanted to meet with me. Do you mind?" he asked, gesturing to the tap.

"Go ahead." Adam pulled himself a pint of beer, then sat beside Joe. The immortal took a long drink, savoring the beer.

"Yeah, Richie said Duncan and Amanda were getting in today." Adam glanced at Joe's papers.

"So, what is all of that? Tax forms? Journals? Naughty pictures?" he asked. Shifting his coat, he made ready to grab the hilt of his sword. He felt the buzz of approaching immortals, probably the others. But it didn't hurt to be prepared.

Joe sighed. "Unfortunately not, I'm just checking over Anya's numbers."

"Ah yes, Anya, you're new assistant. I spoke with Richie on the phone last week; he mentioned her. I believe his words were 'cute but weird.'"

Joe laughed. "That's her alright. She's an odd one. And you won't believe where she's from: Sunnydale."

"The Hellmouth?" Adam whistled. "That's incredible."

"What's incredible?" The two men turned to the door to see Richie, Duncan, and Amanda walk in.

"What's incredible?" Richie asked again as he sat at the bar.

"Anya," Joe said.

The young immortal grinned. "Yeah, she really is. She's really funny and smart. And she's pretty cute."

"We're thinking so because of her home town, not her face," Adam said wryly.

"Home town?" Duncan frowned.

"She's from Sunnydale," Joe said, pretending to flip through his papers nonchalantly while waiting for their reactions.

"The Hellmouth?" Amanda whispered, her eyes wide.

"Is she evil?" Duncan asked.

Richie scratched his head. "What's a Hellmouth?"

Adam smiled. "The Boca Del Inferno, the Mouth of Hell. It is a place where the boundaries between hell and earth are the thinnest. Sunnydale is, well, was the most active Hellmouth in over eight hundred years. Vampires and demons flocked to it, drawn by it's energy."

"Was? What happened to it?" Amanda asked.

"The Slayer and her watcher closed it somehow," Adam explained before taking another drink from his glass.

"Wait, now I'm confused," Richie said. "I thought you said that the Slayer wasn't immortal, so why does she have a watcher?"

"Different kind of watcher. Originally, all watchers were from the same organization, dedicated to keeping tabs on the hidden side of existence. But because the Slayer's purpose is the protection of the world, their watchers helped them out. Eventually the organizations got so large and different that they separated about four hundred years ago," Joe explained.

Richie nodded. "So, when does Anya get here?"

Joe smirked. "She's supposed to get here at three to help get things ready, but she's already in the back, organizing the money in the safe. She likes to touch the money before work."

"Why?" Adam laughed.

"The girl loves her money; I get nervous being in the same room as her and money. She gets... overly excited and happy around the money. Kinda scares me, but in the end she's actually been a big help. Not only is she a good bartender, she's got a head for figures and isn't afraid of throwing out the drunks. She's actually pretty intimidating and comes up with some really creative threats."

"Well, as fascinating as all of that is, why did you call me here, MacLeod?" Adam asked. Duncan looked around quickly before speaking.

"Something strange is happening. Ever since the Hellmouth closed last spring, there have been more vampires in Seacouver."

"Yeah, I've run into ten is the past couple weeks alone," Richie added. "But on the plus side, I think I've gotten a lot better at beheading things, and I only died twice figuring it out."

"But there are still a lot out there, and they aren't something the police can deal with," Duncan explained.

"And you want us to play Slayer," Adam groaned. The door to the back room opened and the four immortals froze, watching as Anya walked up to the cash register, carrying a bank bag.

"Hi!" she chirped, opening the register. The immortals nodded while Richie grinned. "So how are you today?"

"Good," Duncan said, eying her warily.

"Fine," Amanda said.

"Alive," Adam muttered into his beer.

"We're all fine," Richie said, still smiling.

"That's great," Anya said, humming while she sorted the money into the till. The four immortals tabled their conversation, but the dark look Duncan shot them promised further discussion. After she closed the register, Anya looked the group over before her gaze landed on Duncan. Her eyes widened comically, turning from Duncan to Amanda to Adam, then back again. Duncan frowned.

"I'm sorry, have we met before?" he asked; the girl seemed familiar.

"Yeah, you do seem familiar," Amanda added. Anya blanched.

"No, no way we could have met, I would have remembered meeting you. You just remind me of someone I, uh, gave me orgasms once. In Mexico. Have you been to Mexico lately? Well, not lately, it was probably several years ago, but I was only eighteen then," she babbled, moving away from the counter. Turning quickly, she moved into the back room.

"I'm going to go take inventory, Joe," she yelled as she left the room.

"You took inventory yesterday!" Joe yelled back. He didn't get an answer.

"See Adam? Cute but weird," Richie muttered.

$ $ $ $ $ $ $ $ $ $ $ $ $ $ $ $ $ $ $

It was after three in the morning when the four immortals walked through the quiet side streets, swords at the ready. Fog had rolled in, swirling around them.

"Well this was a brilliant idea," Adam muttered. "I'm sure that the vampires will just come running towards four armed people stalking through the fog."

Amanda snorted. "Yes, we just look so tasty and vulnerable."

"Quiet," Duncan growled, nodding his head toward Richie.

Adam frowned, then burst out laughing. "Ah yes, that's right; Richie's just been fighting them off lately. Apparently you make a good target. I guess vampires think you're just too tasty to pass up."

"Yeah, yeah, I'm just a yummy treat," Richie grumbled.

"Sure seem like one to me," a voice growled. The four immortals spun, quickly unsheathing their blades. They faced a group of seven vampires, their distorted faces in shadow, interrupted by the flashing gold of their eyes. One vampire stood in the front, the largest of the group.

"Uh, Stan, since when do humans get weapons?" one of the smaller ones asked. Another scratched his head before speaking.

"Guess they fancy themselves demon hunters."

"Doesn't matter; soup's on boys," growled the leader. The vampires charged, snarling. Duncan moved to the front, challenging the leader. The leader surged toward Duncan, expecting the seemingly normal human to go for a body wound. But Duncan brought his sword up, swinging at the vampire's neck. The vampire's head separated before dropping away as dust. Amanda quickly parried her attackers, hacking off their hands to limit their options. Then, when they were unable to grab at her, she moved in for the kill. Richie delivered bold stabs, driving into their chests and throats, trying to cause distracting secondary damage. But Adam moved quickly, accustomed to fighting the undead. He danced away from them, then quickly moved behind them and cleaved head from torso. Two then charged Richie, pushing him against the wall.

"Duncan!" he yelled, panicked as the vampires held his arms down with inhuman strength. The other three immortals quickly glanced up from their respective battles, wincing as the vampires opened their mouths to bite. Then, they watched in surprise as a crossbow dart slammed into one, dusting it. Using his free hand, Richie pushed it away and raised his sword, slitting the vampires throat. It didn't kill it, but the maneuver did force it back, giving Richie a chance to raise his sword and behead it. Another crossbow dart killed one of the few remaining, while Methos and Amanda killed the last one together.

"Well that was fun," Anya muttered sarcastically. The four turned to face her.

"Anya?" Richie whispered, looking at the bartender who had a sword strapped to her waist and carried a crossbow.

"Yeah, I heard you guys walking around. I usually just walk around on the rooftops and pick them off, but I figured I'd follow you. Safety in numbers. And I wouldn't worry about the vampires anymore. I sent an email to the Council a couple weeks ago, so they'll probably send a slayer soon. I just hope it isn't Kennedy."

Adam laughed disbelievingly, his eyes wide. "You know the Slayers?"

"Well, yeah, I went to the prom with one of the head Slayer's friends," she said wistfully.

"It seems there's a bit more to you than we thought, Miss Jenkins," Duncan said, studying her carefully. The smile dropped from Anya's face.

"Well you don't need to worry about me, I'm just an average woman, nothing interesting about me. Just grew up on the Mouth of Hell, where you have to learn about this stuff, I mean the Mayor ascended during our graduation. I wasn't there, of course; I got the hell out of town. What time is it?" she asked suddenly. Richie checked his watched.

"Almost four." Anya nodded.

"Okay, well I'm going to go catch a cab and get home," she said quickly, backing away from the group and disappearing into the fog.

"I'd better follow her, make sure nothing gets her," Richie said, moving after her.

"I know I've seen her before," Duncan mused. Amanda nodded.

"Well, I think Anya has the right idea. I'll be heading home," Adam said, grinning. As he left his friends behind, he chuckled. "Definitely cute but weird."


	3. In Which Anya Makes a Friend

Humming, Amanda strolled through down the street, ignoring a grumbling Richie as he carried her packages. It was a warm winter's day, the sun shining. And she was on her way to her fence with an antique copy of the Bible, its pages covered in gilded, garish images. Life was good. The shop was located on a small side -street, its windows covered by draperies. It was a sadly typical fence's store. The products on the shelf were fairly pedestrian and outdated. Had any decent detective entered the store, they would have noticed the owner's suspect merchandise.  
  
To be honest, Leroy wasn't her favorite fence. Gerard, and elderly gentleman in Paris, was always full of lively anecdotes, and his wife always brought fresh pastries to the shop. But Gerard was also a lot smarter than Leroy, and could tell from a glance how easily an item would be recognized, it's value, and how likely it was to be discovered by the police. Oftentimes, Amanda would leave Gerard's shop with the item she'd intended on selling, filled with pastry but without money. Leroy, on the other hand, was an idiot. He may know the value of an item, but he never knew if it would give him more trouble than monetary gain. It made him the best fence if you needed to get rid of something, but he was also a shrewd negotiator.  
  
Inside, the store was musty and smelled vaguely of cheap Scotch and even cheaper cigars. Leroy was a portly man, who always had a cigar between his lips and stains on his shirt. A thoroughly unattractive man, he combed his few red hairs over his bald spot and hit on pretty young girls. Like Anya, who was standing in front of him. Behind her, Amanda heard Richie drop the packages, a stunned "Muh?" his only comment.  
  
"Listen, I don't care if you think it's pretty, I'm not selling it for less than $2,400, sugar." Amanda watched as Anya narrowed her eyes  
  
"Well as I was saying before I interrupted, it's pretty _except_ for the fact that it's hot. Now I could just go and call the police and tell them that you have a stolen Kirvovich, missing since 1894, or you can sell it to me for $1,000. Because I can guarantee you that once I call the cops, you won't be able to give this thing away."  
  
Leroy paled, then sneered. "Fine," he snarled. "$1000." Anya pulled out a wad of bills and handed it to him. As she turned to leave, she smiled in surprise at Amanda and Richie.  
  
"What are you doing here?" she asked.  
  
"Well, uh, we were just shopping-," Richie started.  
  
Anya rolled her eyes. "Please, the only people that come in here to shop are looking for stolen merchandise." She narrowed her eyes and shrewdly assessed the package Amanda held under her arm. "Or they're selling something stolen. Can I see?"  
  
Amanda's mouth opened to respond, but her brain couldn't quite find the words. Not only was this girl insane, but she was way too shrewd and smart for someone here age. Rolling her eyes, Anya grabbed the package from Amanda and removed it from the cloth bag.  
  
"Oh, the Marchanz Bible," she murmured. Opening the pages, Anya peered not at the Latin words, but the gilded embellishments on borders. Suddenly she smiled. "Wow, ancient Sumerian. Hmm . . . Dawnie would love this!" Then Anya frowned. "But so would Giles."  
  
"You know what it is?" Amanda asked, puzzled and surprised. The Bible was a rare book, known of only to the most studied of book collectors.  
  
"Yes, and I may even know some people who'll buy it from you," Anya offered brightly.  
  
"You do? Because it's worth more than $725,000," Amanda pointed out.  
  
"I'm guessing you had a buyer, but the buyer died. Because this isn't something you steal and then take to a fence. You had a buyer who died or was sent to jail or something, and now you need to get rid of it. Which sucks because you have to take it to a fence who'll give you maybe a twentieth of what it's worth."  
  
"Maybe," Amanda admitted. Anya pulled out a cell phone and scrolled through the numbers. Muttering the numbers to herself, she pulled a receipt out of a shopping bag and wrote the number on the back of it.  
  
"Here, call this number. Ask for Rupert Giles and tell him what you have. Just don't tell him that you know me," she explained.  
  
"Ex-boyfriend?" Richie asked, pretending that he wasn't interested.  
  
"No. Well, I thought he was my fiancee for a while, but that was this whole thing. It’s just that he knows my Xander, and Xander can't know I'm here," Anya explained in a rush.  
  
"Xander?" Richie asked, his voice sad and hopeless.  
  
"He was my fiancee. We almost got married, but he left me at the altar. I hated him for that, but he did it because he was afraid he'd hurt me. Eventually I got over it and I decided that if I have to get old and wrinkled, I want to do it with him by my side."  
  
Amanda raised her eyebrows. "Oh. Uh, okay." After a short pause, allowing her to regain her composure, Amanda spoke again. "Are you working tonight?"  
  
$ $ $ $ $ $ $ $ $ $  
  
It was near eight that night when Anya and Amanda breezed in. Small shopping bags dangled from their wrists as they moved toward the bar. Joe smiled at them.  
  
"Well ladies, what can I get for you?"  
  
"I'll have a Maker's Mark Manhattan," Amanda said, dropping onto a stool. Anya sat down next to her.  
  
"I'll have a dirty martini, please. We should probably get Richie something, too. How about a coke for him, please." Joe frowned.  
  
"Where is Richie?" The two women turned toward the door. A few seconds later the door opened and Richie stumbled in, carrying several large shopping bags and boxes. Joe shook his head. "Poor bastard."  
  
$ $ $ $ $ $ $ $ $ $  
  
 _Three Days Later . . ._  
  
Giles poured himself a glass of Scotch before settling down behind his desk. Pulling out his magnifying glass, he went over the printed computer images sent to him. Deciding that it could be the genuine article, he set down the magnifying glass and picked up the phone. Dialing the number from memory, he took a sip of his drink while listening to the phone ring.  
  
"Hello Dawn. . . . I'm doing quite well, thank you. How's the vacation going . . . ? Excellent. Now, I have an official request for you. . . . No, nothing terrifying. Now, you're in San Francisco, right . . . ? All I need you to do it head to Seacouver before returning. I've received word of a text for sale there, and I do believe it is the genuine article. . . . The Marchanz Bible. . . . You will? Excellent . . . . Just let me contact the seller and notify her that you'll be there. I'll have Rona meet you at the airport. . . . She agreed to head the Northwest Division last week and arrived there a few days ago. I think she’s mostly just curious about the identity of the person who notified of Seacouver’s difficulties. . . . No, no leads on our ‘friend,’ yet. . . . Look, it should be a simple exchange, but I still want her to go with you even though she is rather busy. . . . No arguments, Dawn, or I'll send Buffy to help you . . . . Thank you. I'll have my secretary book a flight for you leaving in two days. I'll call you with the details in a day or so. . . . All right Dawn, have fun. Be careful. . . . Goodbye."  
  
As Giles hung up the phone, he had no idea of the chaos Dawn's trip would unleash. Poor bastard.


	4. In Which The Immortal Four Get Suspicious...er

Humming, Anya turned off the neon signs for the bar and walked back to the register.  As she prepared to open it, Amanda walked in.

"Hi Amanda, we're closed," Anya chirped.  Amanda smiled.

"I know, but I don't need a drink. I'm here on business," she explained while seating herself in the corner.  Pulling out a magazine, she raised it in front of her face, effective cutting off any further conversation.  With a perplexed shrug, Anya opened the register and began counting.

Joe emerged from the back of the bar and began clearing the tables.  The door opened once again, this time to admit Duncan, Richie, and Adam.

"You know, we turned the signs off for a reason," Anya pouted.  "What are you guys doing here?"

Duncan shrugged.  "Amanda asked us here."

Anya rolled her eyes before looking at her money - well, Joe's money - again, and finished counting.  Smiling, she started to dance, turning away from the door as she moved in a circle.

Richie watched, entranced, while the others stared in horror as Anya waved the money in the air.  The barroom door opened again.

"What are you doing?" Duncan asked.

"The dance of capitalist superiority," a voice whispered.  Anya froze and turned to the door quickly, as did the bar's other occupants.

The immortals stared at the two women who stood in the doorway; a thin, willowy brunette with wide blue eyes, and an enticing yet intimidating black girl with dreadlocks who observed the room critically... and held an axe.

"What the fuck are you?" the black girl growled.  The immortals and Joe blanched. How could this girl know....

Anya's eye widened as she held her hands out.  "It's me, Anya!" she yelled.  "But don't tell Xander!"

The two strangers looked at each other and frowned.  Meanwhile, the immortals were ready to reach for their weapons.

"You know them, Anya?" Amanda asked warily.

"The girl with the brown hair is Dawn, the one I told you would like your stolen book," Anya explained.  "And the other girl is Rona."

"Is that why you asked us here Amanda? In case your deal went bad?" Duncan fumed.  Amanda shrugged.

"Yeah, it is."

"That's a nice axe," Adam observed.  Duncan frowned, but kept his attention to the armed female.

"Are they dangerous, Anya?" Joe asked.

"Well, Rona definitely is, and Dawn can be," Anya supplied, smiling.  Joe groaned and began to rub his temples.

"Let me rephrase that, Anya.  Are they dangerous to us?" Joe asked.

"Not unless you try to kill them," Anya said.

"How in the hell are you here?" Dawn asked, her cold voice cutting through the chatter.  "We though you were dead, Xander mourned for you."

Anya faltered.  "He did?  Oh, my poor Xander," Anya whimpered.  "I would have called, but they wouldn't let me," she pouted.

"Who wouldn't let you?" Rona asked skeptically.

Anya's mouth worked as the former vengeance demon tried to come up with an explanation that wouldn't alarm the immortals.  "Whistler said I couldn't," she finally said.

"Whistler?" Dawn asked.

"Yeah, Whistler.  Ugly guy, wears a fedora and ugly clothes.  Buffy met him right before she ran away," Anya explained.  Dawn's eyes widened.

"It really is me," Anya continued.  Dawn slowly walked forward, frowning.  When she reached the bar, she extended her hand and poked Anya.  When Dawn's finger encounter solid matter, she grinned and Rona lowered her axe.  Anya hurried out from behind the bar and hugged Dawn, tears in her eyes.  She'd really missed her friends; they'd known everything about her.  Moving away from Dawn, she smiled.

"What about the Bible?" Amanda asked, suddenly bored.

"The Bible?" Adam smirked.  "What, are you reformed now Amanda?"

Anya shooed Dawn in the direction of Amanda.

"Okay, you go buy your stolen book, and we'll talk when I'm done closing the bar," Anya declared.  Dawn smiled and wiped tears from her eyes.

"Okay," she agreed.  "We really do need to talk."

$ $ $ $ $ $ $ $ $ $

An hour later, Rona, Dawn, and Anya sat on the couch in Anya's small apartment drinking wine and eating pizza.

"Okay, so they brought you back a little over a month ago so you wouldn't screw up Xander's destiny?  Bastards," Rona growled.  "They made Xander mourn for nothing."

"Was he really very upset?" Anya asked, partially pleased that Xander had mourned for her, but sad that he'd experienced such pain.

"Oh yeah," Dawn nodded.  "He was proud that you went out fighting, but he still misses you.  He's only gone on one blind date, and that one totally sucked."

"Did some evil woman try to eat my Xander?" Anya snarled.  "I'll kill them... if Buffy hasn't already."

"Uh, no.  She was an accountant named Anna, and Xander kept calling her Anya," Dawn grinned.  "He thought she was way too boring."

"Oh, he's so sweet," Anya whispered as her eyes teared up.

"So when can you tell Xander that you're alive?" Rona asked, starting on her sixth piece of pizza.

"Whistler said they'd notify me when I could contact him," Anya answered grouchily.  "Stupid balance demon."

"Man, what a bastard," Rona muttered.

"Yeah, Buffy said he was a jack ass.  Apparently she threatened to rip out his rib cage and wear it as a hat," Dawn added.

"Really?" Anya smiled. "Think she still might? You know, I punched him."

"Good job," Dawn laughed, raising her glass.  The three women clinked their wine glasses together and drank.

"So I'm guessing you're the source that let us know about the vampire problem," Dawn said.

"Yep. I even went out and slayed some using a crossbow," Anya smiled.  Dawn snickered.

"Anya the vampire slayer," Dawn grinned. "Who'd have thought it?"

Anya frowned.  "Hey, I'm a very heroic person, I'll have you know."

"Oh, of course you are," Dawn placated.  "So, what can you tell me about those immortals?"

Anya raised an eyebrow.  "How did you know they were immortals?"

$ $ $ $ $ $ $ $ $ $

After exchanging promises of mutual secrecy, Dawn had left three days later.  During those three days, Dawn had spent a great deal of time at the bar, talking with Anya, Joe, and the immortals.  So far, Rona hadn't been having a difficult time keeping the city safe.  The dark elements visiting Seacouver seemed to be primarily vampires, and stupid ones at that.  But the immortals were even more suspicious than ever.

Amanda, Adam, Richie, and Duncan sat at a corner table at Joe's bar, watching the mysterious Anya Jenkins.

"So did Dawn say anything about me?" Richie asked, smiling. Adam chuckled.

"You go from mooning over Anya to mooning over Dawn? My, what a fickle young man you are," he admonished.  Richie blushed.

"I can't help it. Dawn was really cute.  And smart," Richie sighed.

"Yes, a little bit too smart," Duncan mused darkly. "She's barely 21, and she works for the Watcher's Council."

"Oh God, will you stop brooding," Amanda groaned. "She told us that her sister is a slayer, that's why she works for them."

"True, but she also has an alarming knowledge of ancient languages.  Did you see that tattoo on her shoulder?  I asked her what it said, and she smirked at me and told me what it said... in Ancient Sumerian.  And she could actually pronounce it," Adam said.

"Sumerian is a dead language except to those who lived in that time," Duncan mused.  "That she is so young and can read it is startling enough, but her being able to speak it, that is rather strange."

"Maybe they have an immortal at their Council who taught her," Richie suggested.  Adam nodded.

"That is a possibility," Adam acknowledged.  "But when I told her of my research on Ancient Sumerian, she got a strange look on her face."

"Like she knew we were hiding something," Amanda supplied.  "She did ask me a lot of strange questions about history.  Maybe she knows what we are."

"So did Dawn say anything about Anya?" Duncan asked.

"Not much, just that she went to school with her sister.  But she seemed like she was hiding something," Amanda explained.

"How could you tell?" Richie asked.

"Who better to catch a liar than another liar," Adam smirked.  Amanda glared at him as Duncan suppressed a chuckle.

"So what if there's a lot more to Anya than we know?  I mean, she doesn't talk about her past that much," Richie added.

"I know I've seen her somewhere before," Duncan said.  "But I can't remember where, and every time I ask, she gets nervous. She obviously remembers, and given her relationship with the slayer, perhaps it was a supernatural connection."

"So that begs the question," Adam murmured, watching Anya at the bar. "Who is Anya Jenkins?"

$ $ $ $ $ $ $ $ $ $


	5. In Which the Immortal Four Learn Things They Wish They Hadn't

* * * * * * * *  


It had been two weeks since Dawn had visited, and a blanket of depression had fallen on Anya.  Anya, Dawn and Rona had agreed that keeping in contact would be risky and could possibly anger the Powers.  And despite the fact that none of them held any regard for the Powers, the punishment Anya and Xander would receive was too great.  So once again, Anya was stuck, separated from those that knew her, alone with the truth of her past.  She honestly didn't know how much longer she could keep going, knowing that Xander still missed her, still loved her.  A part of her had been afraid that Xander would just get over her, forget her.  But now that she knew that Xander still loved her and still missed her, she felt the distance more keenly than ever.  Sitting in the bar's back room, she stared at the safe, filled with money. But even those neat, lovely stacks of cash couldn't make her smile.

In the front of the bar, a few customers milled about while Richie, Amanda, Duncan and Adam sat at a table, talking to Joe.

"So she's just been getting worse?" Duncan asked, frowning.  Okay, so Anya did kind of weird him out, but she was nice enough and apparently not evil.  She kind of grew on him after a while despite her occasional complaints regarding his financial planning and hair.

"Yeah." Joe nodded. "She doesn't even smile when she counts money anymore.  Last week we got a bunch of doctors in from that OB/GYN conference.  We made a ton of money, and she didn't even do her money dance.  Or ask them awkward questions."

"Really?" Adam asked, wide eyed.

"Well, what do you think is bugging her?" Richie asked, frowning.  His attentions had shifted from Anya to Dawn, but he still thought Anya was pretty great.

"Don't know. She was happy enough when Dawn left," Duncan recalled.

"Maybe she misses her friends," Richie said.

"Perhaps she finds herself saddened at the sudden downturn in the stock market," Adam suggested.

"Oh for God's sake," Amanda cried, rolling her eyes.  "Rememberher fiancée?  Xander?  The love of her life that she can't get in contact with?"

The four men nodded in sudden realization.

"Yeah, why is that?  I mean, is it some government thing?" Richie asked.

Joe shook his head.  "Nah, that seems too strange for even the government to do."

The door opened and another customer walked in.  Joe looked up quickly before frowning.  Damn it, he had conversation going on here!  Okay, so it was more gossip than anything else, but still!

"Hey, Anya!" he yelled.  "Customer out front!"

Adam spoke next as the door to the back room opened.  "Maybe it's the Council; they have been known to keep a tight leash on their Slayers; perhaps those restrictions extend to all associates of the counsel."

"Wait, the Council?" a voice interrupted.  The group turned to see the owner of the voice; it belonged to the customer, a young man with dark brown hair and an eye patch.  The four immortals and Joe started at him, frowning.

"Okay, okay, I'm-."  Anya's grouchy words were cut off by the sound of crashing glass. The occupants of the room looked over at the bar.  Anya stood behind it, one hand paused in the process of moving shot glasses, the other hand hanging by her side.

"Anya?" the brunette whispered, his voice breaking.  

Adam and company stared at this new development; it was better than watching a soap opera.  Anya was pale as she slowly raised a shaking hand to her throat, fiddling with the necklace she wore.

"Xander?  Go away.  You can't be here," she whimpered, tears welling up in her eyes, anguish written into every line on her face.  

Xander looked just as upset.

"Why not?  I thought you'd be happy to see me."

"No, I am, but you have to go," she said, tears slipping down her face.

"I'm not leaving you."

"But Whistler said-."

"Whistler told me you were here, said it was time.  Then Buffy broke his jaw," Xander interrupted, slowly walking closer to the bar.  Anya's hand dropped from her neck and in a flurry of movement, she scrambled onto the counter and launched herself into Xander's arms, a host of glasses falling to the ground.  Her arms wrapped around his neck, her legs around his waist.  Xander's arms went around her, molding her tightly to his body.  Their mouths met in a blatantly sexual kiss that spoke of yearning, claiming and desire.  Adam raised an eyebrow while Richie was more obvious, staring at them with his mouth hanging open.  Amanda simply looked impressed while Duncan and Joe were trying to watch without looking.

"You know," Joe finally interrupted, "this is a public place."

Anya tore her mouth from Xander's, sucking in lungfuls of air before lowering her legs.  Xander released her, mournfully removing his hands from her ass. 

"Stay right here," Anya ordered.  Turning, she ran into the back room, returning thirty seconds later with her purse and coat.

"Joe, I'm leaving for orgasms and cuddling.  No one had better interrupt me, or they'll wake up missing parts of their anatomy that won't grow back," she said, glaring at Joe and the others.  Grabbing Xander's hand, she led him out of the bar.

No one said anything, but simply stared.  Finally, Adam broke the still silence as he raised his beer in a toast.

"To Xander: let us hope he's eaten a great many oysters today."

* * * * * * * * * *

The next afternoon, Joe went through the daily tasks of preparing the bar for the night.  The four immortals were once again occupying a table, theorizing about Anya while waiting for her to reappear.  Though truth be told, Adam was mostly just drinking beer while listening to the younger immortals gossip.  The door opened again to admit a group of five people.  This group was comprised of four women and one man, most of whom were bickering loudly.  

"I still think you should have told us, at least," a blonde woman argued.  "We wouldn't have said anything to him."

"Well I would have if you didn't suck so much at keeping secrets," another female voice said.

"She does make an excellent point; you never did hold any talent for deception or stealth," a British man pointed out.

"Hey, I'm stealthy; I can totally be secret-keepy girl!" the blonde whined.

"Look, B, she was just following orders.  Not that the PTB ever give us clear instructions," a brunette woman added.

"Yeah, I mean it could have messed something up and then they would have taken her back and then he'd still be all sad and mopey and, you know, I did kind of miss her, especially since she always made him smile and laugh and blush, which was kinda funny and she did come up with good ideas sometimes," a redhead babbled.  "Especially about the hammer."

It was Richie who recognized the familiar face first.  

"Hi, Dawn!"  Richie cried out, standing quickly.  He winced as his hasty movement sent his chair clattering on its side noisily.

Dawn smiled broadly in return before walking over and pulling him into a hug.

"Hi, Richie, nice to see you," she replied, smiling gently.

"Hey, who's this?" the short blonde demanded, marching over with a frown.  She glared at Richie, her gaze sharp and holding a degree of danger.

"God, chill, Buffy.  Richie, this is my well-meaning yet overprotective sister, Buffy.  Buffy, this is Richie, a guy so nice he makes Riley look like an evil puppy-kicker."

Buffy's gaze remained cold and shrewd as she shook Richie's hand, her body tense, restrained.  Dawn rolled her eyes before speaking again.

"Anyways, let me introduce you to the others; the guy with the beer is Adam, the woman is Amanda, and the other guy Duncan.  Don't look at him funny or he might challenge you to a duel."

"Oh, a fighter, huh?"  

The group turned and studied the brunette at her comment.  She leered at Duncan, her full lips twisted in a smile that could only be described as naughty. 

Dawn rolled her eyes again before continuing.  "Whatever.  Guys, this is my sister, Buffy, my friend Willow, that's Faith, and Giles, my boss.  Oh, and the guy behind the counter is Joe, Anya's boss."

"So, do you guys know where Xander and Anya are?" Buffy asked.

Amanda and Adam snickered as Richie answered.

"The two of them left yesterday.   Anya said it was for orgasms and cuddling."  

"Damn, it's a good thing Xan takes his vitamins," Faith snickered.  

"Well shoot," Willow pouted.  "Now we won't see them for a few days."

"Yes, I imagine we won't," Giles explained, cleaning his glasses.  

"Ah, you could call.  I mean, do you really think Anya will be that mad if you interrupt?" Richie broke in.

The five visitors turned and pinned him with stares that conveyed amusement, incredulity and varying degrees of apprehension.

"Boy, I know I could take her in a fight, but I've gotten drunk with her and I know what she's done to people.  No way I'm messing with something as important to her as sex with Xan," Faith explained, smirking.

"Yeah," Willow added, "I heard what she was talking about on prom night, and that didn't even include the funny syphilis.  We didn't learn about that until Thanksgiving."

"Funny syphilis?" Amanda echoed, frowning.  "I'm intrigued, yet terrified." 

"Yes, well, changing the subject, I suppose we should contact Rona about locating some housing for the next few days," Giles said.

"You all work for the Watcher's Council?" Duncan asked.

"Well, yes.  In a manner of speaking," Giles explained, explaining nothing.

"Oh no, they just run the Council."  The assembled persons turned to find Anya and Xander walking in from the back room.   Anya smiled brightly as she and Xander were suddenly inundated with hugs and tearful greetings.  Finally, when the urge to hug had been temporarily sated, the group calmed down.

"Did you really break Whistler's jaw?" Anya asked Buffy hopefully.

"Yeah, but it healed right away," Buffy answered with a pout.

"Who is Whistler?"  Adam asked, starting on another pint.  "I take it he isn't the one who painted his mother."

"Why would he paint his mother?  Does he paint?" Buffy asked, scrunching her nose up.

Giles pinched the bridge of his nose.  "Buffy, Whistler was an American painter who-."

"He was the artist who the painting Mr. Bean that ruined in the first Mr. Bean movie," Dawn interrupted. 

"Oh, okay."  

"Whistler is a balance demon who speaks on behalf of the Powers that Be," Giles explained tiredly.

"He never has good news, either," Willow added.  "It's always the same stuff: the world is ending,you weren't supposed to do that, blah blah blah."

"Wait, do these guys even know about about demons?" Faith asked.

"Totally; they're immortal.  They'd have to be pretty stupid to live for centuries and not notice the oogy-boogys," Dawn explained.

The room went silent as the four immortals stared at Dawn, slack-jawed.  

"What- how?" Amanda stuttered.

"Eh, it's this whole thing," Dawn shrugged.  "I was born kind of different, so when Willow did this spell activating all the slayers, the magic mixed with the energy and made me immortal, sort of.  Then I did a spell to create a portal that used my blood which must have tied everything together.  Anyways, I died a couple months ago for the first time but I didn't stay dead, so now I can tell when someone else is immortal, but I'm not really like you guys.  I'm totally exempt from your guillotine game."

Joe stared at the group, trying to maintain some semblance of decorum.  "So what happened, Anya?  Why did you end up here in Seacouver, hiding from Xander?"

"Stupid Powers that Blow decided I would distract Xander from his immediate duties, so they had me die on the Hellmouth.  Then they resurrected me several months later as Xander's reward," she explained, smiling.  "So they brought me here to get settled again.  But I couldn't tell Xander I was alive; it had to be a secret or else they'd kill me again."

"So have we actually met before?" Duncan asked.  

"Have you met any of them before?" Xander asked.

"Not Richie.  But they're the reason I knew the Chumash spirit gave you funny syphilis," Anya explained, smiling.  

"Wait, so you're an immortal?" Richie asked.  "You don't feel immortal.'

"Hey pal, you'd better not have been feeling her," Xander warned, stepping forward.  Anya grasped one bicep, holding him beside her.

"He was referring to the buzzing sensation immortals feel around each other," Dawn explained.

"Oh."

"I was sort of immortal for a while, but I'm not anymore," Anya explained.  "I was a vengeance demon, which is how I met the other three."

Suddenly, understanding dawned on Duncan's face, followed by a murderous rage.  Beside him, Amanda paled considerably.

"You!" he yelled.  He moved toward Anya, only to be held back by Adam and Richie.

"What?  It's not like it's my fault you pissed a woman off enough to make her wish that you'd die of syphilis," Anya shot back.

"It took me two years to die!" Duncan yelled.

"Oh stop whining and just be happy I didn't make it so you kept dying of syphilis."

"So who wished it upon me?" Duncan asked, barely able to rein in his temper. 

"I'm sorry, but that's confidential," Anya explained with a delicate sniff.

"What, there are demonic confidentiality laws?"  Adam snorted, shaking his head.

"Hell, maybe there are.  You should ask your friend about it, though," Faith said. 

"What?"  Duncan frowned at her in confusion.

"You're friend," Faith said, indicating Amanda with a nod of her head.  "Last person I saw go white like that was a girl who accidentally unleashed hell in her basement."

"Amanda, what do you know about this?" Duncan asked, slowly turning to fix a cold gaze on Amanda.

"Nothing," Amanda said breezily.  Duncan glared at her until she finally rolled her eyes." Okay, fine, you pissed me off so I wished that you'd die a slow, painful death.  I didn't really mean it, I didn't know she was a vengeance demon."

"It's true," Anya confirmed.  "Only very rarely was I summoned to enact revenge.  Most of my job was just being in the right place at the right time, and then getting people to wish horrid things upon someone."

"So is that how we met?  Did you kill me?" Adam asked.

"What, you don't remember if she killed you?" Richie asked, his eyes wide.

Adam shrugged.   "Well, I was drunk a lot of the time."

"I never actually took vengeance on you.  I would just drop in from time to time to see if anyone was ready to wish something truly vile upon you."

"So no one ever wanted to hurt him?" Duncan asked.  "I find that hard to believe."

"It's not that surprising, actually.  It's just that most of his enemies wanted to be the ones inflicting torment on him, " Anya explained, grinning broadly.  "They wanted a hands-on experience, especially Cassandra."

Adam raised his eyebrows before smiling.  "You know, that actually makes a great deal of sense.  Rather flattering, actually."

"Yeah, that's sounds pretty fair for people that want to kill you," Buffy added.  "I mean, most of the people that want to kill me hire assassins or set vampires after me or turn me invisible when they try to kill me with a death ray."

"So, Anya, should I be expecting a resignation?" Joe asked.

"No.  Xander will be moving here to be the local watcher.  I'll help, but I'd like to keep working here.  Tell me, have you ever considered taking on a business partner?"

* * * * *

_Six Months Later...._ __

__The door of the building burst open as Richie hurried inside.  Adam, Duncan and Joe followed close behind, but Richie didn't slow down, cradling his burden against his chest as he bolted up the stairs.  He moved through the halls until he reached the room.  He knocked and waited, and barely two seconds later, the door was yanked open.  Dawn stood before him, a vision of beauty.  Her hair was neatly piled on her head, some tendrils free and brushing her neck.  Swathed in lavender silk, she was stunning.

Dawn smiled gratefully at him.  "Thank god.  Please tell me you found the orchids," she begged.

Richie could only nod, staring dumbly at her.  Dawn frowned as she took the plastic container from Richie.

"Wow, you look fantastic," he finally muttered. 

"Thanks," she answered, blushing.  "These dresses are a lot better than the ones Anya chose the last time she almost married Xander.  Speaking of Xander, how's he doing?"

"Good.  He's nervous, but really excited and happy."

"Yeah; and it probably helps that Willow, Buffy and Andrew are his 'groomsmen.'  Last time, Giles wasn't here, and Buffy and Wills were Anya's bridesmaids.  And Andrew kept trying to kill Buffy."

"Andrew?  Annoying sci-fi nut Andrew?"

"Yep."

"Dawn, I need my flowers or else everything will be ruined!"  Anya wailed from inside the dressing room.

Dawn grinned and rolled her eyes before shutting the door. 

* * * * * *

The wedding was held in the garden of an old mansion outside Seacouver.  A harp played as the bridesmaids, Amanda, Dawn and Faith, walked down the aisle, all of them beautiful in the dresses.  Xander stood in the front with Willow, Buffy and Andrew, along with Giles who would serve as officiate.  Given the fact that it was a wedding being attended by witches, watchers, slayers, immortals and a demon named Clem, no one commented on oddity of two women dressed in suits serving as groomsmen.  When the wedding party was finally in place, the harp fell silent.  Seconds later, the wedding march began and Anya appeared, escorted up the aisle by Joe, who leaned on a cane as they slowly walked.  As she moved down the aisle, a full smile broke across Xander's face and he began to bounce in place.  And Anya looked perfect, her blonde curls pinned back, orchids nestled in her hair. 

But while the attendees found nothing odd to the wedding, to outsiders, the entire gathering would have seemed bizarre.  Especially considering that a group of young girls were serving as security.  And the strangers would have thought it a joke when Rona handed Buffy the scythe when Giles asked for objections. 

But no one thought it odd when Xander promised that he would love her beyond death, and that he would spend the rest of his life being the husband Anya deserved.  Only the couple's friends understood the importance of it when Anya promised to stand by Xander in good times and poor, in peace and in battle, no matter what the world threw at them... including bunnies.  It was those close to them knew how much it meant when Anya said she loved Xander more than money, to which he replied that he loved  her more than junk-food and science fiction combined.  And only those assembled understood the importance of the gesture when Willow stepped forward and clasped their hands together, blessing their union.  As she spoke, a warm glow seemed to emanate from Willow before surrounding the couple, though others might have thought it just a trick of the light.

As Giles uttered the words, "you may now kiss the bride," Anya handed her bouquet off to Amanda, then pulled her husband into a fierce embrace.  After a rather long embrace that endured despite Giles repeatedly clearing his throat, the couple let each other go.  Smiling, they faced their friends as cheers sounded from all around them before dashing down the aisle and into a side garden.

Giles stepped forward and announced "all guests are welcome to adjourn to the ballroom inside while we take pictures."  As the guest stood and prepared to move inside, Anya ran back over.

"Remember, this isn't an open bar, so don't go crazy and pay for you own booze!"

The End  



End file.
